


A Curse and a Blessing

by PoisonJack



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: General au, Hand Kink, Kissing, M/M, Masturbation in Shower, Multi, Mutual Masturbation, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rhys has so many wet dreams he should buy a waterbed, Rhys is Handsome Jack's Personal Assistant, Rhys' morally ambiguous lechery, Thirsty Rhys (Borderlands), competent Jack, handjobs, pillow princess rhys, punishment only works when you don't enjoy it lol, wow that's a tag that exists and that's awesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-13
Updated: 2019-11-15
Packaged: 2021-01-29 22:09:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21417463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoisonJack/pseuds/PoisonJack
Summary: Rhys is Jack's PA, and takes particular notice of just how big andcapablethe CEO's hands actually are while he's upgrading Rhys' arm. Cue ultimate thirst mode™, in which Rhys fantasizeshard, feels Tim's own hands under false pretenses, and can't get the idea of Tim and Jack's hands on his body out of his head.Rhys thinks they haven't noticed his ogling. He'd be wrong about that.From the prompt:Jack/Tim does something impressive with their hands (cooking/gun skills/something) and Rhysnotices. And then obsesses. And then is basically thirsty for their hands on him. But Jack and Tim don’t notice, (or Jack doesn’t notice at first but then catches on and starts messing with Rhys?) because they are both super busy until Rhys just finally snaps and gets what he wants.
Relationships: Handsome Jack/Rhys (Borderlands), Handsome Jack/Timothy Lawrence, Handsome Jack/Timothy Lawrence/Rhys, Rhack - Relationship, Rhysothy - Relationship, rhackothy - Relationship
Comments: 43
Kudos: 308





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This definitely got away from me, I had soooo much fun writing it I split it into two chapters xD Just need to finish up the smut, which should be up within like the next day or so :D I HAD A LOT OF FUN WRITING THIS THANK YOU!~

There were certain privileges to being Handsome Jack’s personal assistant, Rhys found.

The obvious things like a bigger paycheck, a nicer apartment, and bragging rights were a fun novelty that he’d quickly gotten used to. Access to executive-level information, tech upgrades, and the power that went with having Handsome Jack’s ear were among the _nicer_ benefits that still gave him a rush over a year later. 

And right now— with his cybernetic arm laying palm-up on Jack’s desk- the CEO himself was performing a delicate upgrade to Rhys’ hardware. The special attention got his blood pumping quicker for more than a few reasons.

Jack’s attitude was very much like his body: large and in charge. But while the older man might’ve enjoyed strangling the life from especial-idiots with his bare hands, he also had more _refined_ skills. The spectrum of things Jack could do with his hands wasn’t exactly new to Rhys, but having Jack’s deep in the circuitry and wires of his forearm brought a whole new level of understanding, and with it, fantasy.

The delicate machinery and circuits inside of Rhys’ arm were handled with utmost care as the CEO manipulated the tech. Jack knew how to be careful, just like he knew how to effectively snuff out life. That Rhys was on the end of the ‘care’ spectrum definitely had him inwardly-preening, and it got his brain applying Jack’s particular handiness to _other_ scenarios in his mind.

“Hand me that screwdriver, pumpkin,” Jack said flatly as he was focused on a wire inside his arm. This was one of the few times Jack ever wore glasses, his usual frenetic-energy centered on working with surgical precision. It wasn’t helping Rhys pay attention, rather lending more fodder to his less-than-pure daydreams about his boss.

Jack had his free hand open expectantly to Rhys as he kept his attention on the inner-mechanisms of the cybernetics. His other hand was carefully maneuvering a small purple wire around a coil with a pair of grounded tweezers, moving to see from different angles. The area the CEO was working in was delicate indeed, and if Jack really wanted to, he could cause some real damage and considerable pain without even trying (Rhys had hurt himself quite a few times tinkering). 

Frankly, Rhys was impressed by Jack’s technical skills being put to use. 

Those bigs hands of Jack’s had strangled more than a few necks in Rhys’ presence, and the violence he was capable of was legendary in fact_ and_ fiction. But the sheer _control_ the older man had— the skill needed for the upgrades- made Rhys’ pulse race. Not out of fear, but of _excitement. _

Hands as big as Jack’s shouldn’t be_ able_ to be so careful with him. They were strong hands meant for_ violence_. Jack’s particular brand of violence was always so messy, but this… _Well_… The PA found Jack’s competence distractingly attractive.

Rhys passed the screwdriver and let his mind wander further as he absently observed, watching Jack expertly manipulate the other tools in his hand. He wondered what else those skilled fingers might be capable of if put to better use. The CEO had already made a few jokes about Rhys ‘letting him put some fingers in him’, and while Rhys had rolled his eyes, it certainly gave him something to think about. 

Jack was making a voluntary-override for Rhys’ surge-protection, the idea being that the younger man could store a burst of energy in his arm for later use; enough to direct an electrical-current from his fingertips. 

While the idea of finger-guns being brought to a brand new level was amusing in of itself, the very-real issue of Rhys being kidnapped or taken hostage— due to his relationship to Hyperion’s CEO- only made the shock-delivery system make sense. It would only be a single shock, maybe two, but enough to bring down a potential kidnapper, and essentially a weapon that wouldn’t be detected in meetings with rival companies.

There were a few minor calibrations Jack had to do, and a few more adjustments in directing the electrical flow inside Rhys’ palm circuitry to his ring- and middle-fingers. Jack held the back of Rhys’ palm in his own while he worked, the CEO’s hand dwarfing Rhys’ cybernetic one as he cupped it. 

It didn’t take much at all to imagine what it might be like if Jack curled his fingers to entwine them with Rhys’ own. The innocence of a hand-holding fantasy quickly switching up to the visualization of Jack’s larger hand pressing his into sheets. It was easy to imagine as Jack moved his hand as he worked, the firm grasp feeding back through his arm’s sensitivity receptors.

He bit his lip to bring himself back to reality, and they tested out the connections before Jack eventually closed up the paneling, and Rhys went home for the day.

Rhys was… maybe a _little _embarrassed that his front door was barely closed before he was palming himself on the way to the shower. He couldn’t take the thought from his mind of Jack’s large hands being put to _better_ use on other parts of his body. 

Rhys knew Jack’s hands well. The breadth of them, the general size. Especially after watching him all afternoon up close and mentally fighting the half-chub in his pants. They’d fit good around his waist. Probably be able to cup his entire ass in both hands. What would it feel like to have Jack’s warm, large hands sliding up his inner thigh? Or to feel one of those palms cupping his throat _without _intent to kill?

Rhys cleaned himself off in the shower with minor shame, figuring to put things out of his head as he _knew _Jack, and this level of infatuation after working for him so long already was ridiculous.

He couldn’t stop his dreams though, and the visions of Jack’s hands on his body— holding him, pinning him, _touching_ him- assaulted Rhys throughout the night.

Suffice it to say, he didn’t get any rest that night, and he woke up in ruined sheets and a sense of agitation that kept him on-edge all weekend.

\--

“I got you one of those caramel-foam things since you didn’t answer any of my messages,” Rhys spouted off early Monday morning as he walked into their shared office, the CEO sitting at his desk as the younger man strode in with coffee for the both of them. “And they were out of cheese bagels. We’ll have to order something in later.”

As he got closer, Rhys realized it wasn’t Jack in his seat, but _Tim_— the man’s body-double and sometime stand-in- and he pulled up short at his misplaced snarking. “Oh, hey! Sorry, I, uh... _ha ha_… thought uh….” He looked at his hands, coffee in each. It was clear who he’d thought Tim was. “_Well._ Would you like a coffee?”

Tim snorted as Rhys offered up the sweet concoction he’d brought for Jack, the man making a few noises of gratitude as he took a careful sip. “That is _way _better than the crappy instant I had this morning,” Tim said with a smirk. “Jack’s not coming in today. Obviously.”

“Sleeping-in or hungover?” Rhys prompted with a grin, sipping from his own cup as Tim chuckled and laughed as he confirmed that, _yes_, Jack _was_ hungover or something, but he wasn’t even on the station right now. Probably still sleeping off the meeting-turned-party that had gone _very_ well on Elpis. 

Tim took another sip of the coffee as Rhys put his stuff away at his desk. His voice was just like Jack’s, but there was something always just a bit softer there when they were alone in the office. Tim took another sip of the sweet concoction before speaking again: “I think there’s the one echo-meeting he wanted me to do on video for payroll, but what else is on the roster for today?”

Rhys easily opened up the display of Jack’s schedule on his palm, quickly opening to the date with his echoeye and scanning through the day’s lackluster agenda. “Yeah, there’s a few things, but most of it’s just signatures and stuff or quick calls.” Rhys frowned to himself. “...he could’ve just given us both the day off too…”

Tim made an annoyed sound that Rhys agreed with wholeheartedly.

“Oh! Yeah-” Rhys began suddenly in idea, “did Jack tell you about the upgrade he did to my arm?”

A smile spread across Tim’s face. “He did, yeah, but I didn’t wanna be nosey… Is it cool?”

Rhys smirked. The differences between the CEO and his body-double were obvious if you only paid attention, and as handsome as the namesake, Rhys was indeed paying close attention. “Well… You wanna see how it works?

—

They ordered-in for lunch after the novelty of playing with Rhys’ new finger-gun wore off; noodles and vegetables and sweet and spicy chicken. Rhys used a fork to eat his while Tim expertly ate with chopsticks like it was nothing. His smoothness was enough for Rhys to comment on as they were settled in eating together at Jack’s desk.

“How’d you get so good at that?”

“A’ wha’?” Tim asked before swallowing, making Rhys smirk.

“_That,_” Rhys said, motioning with his fork. 

“What? Chopsticks?”

“Yeah.”

“A lot of long nights eating take-out while studying in college.” 

He made a show out of smoothly picking up a piece of chicken and popping it in his mouth in one completely-natural motion. Rhys couldn’t manage that type of finesse if his life was on the line. 

Tim smirked and continued eating, _maybe _showing off a bit as it was clear Rhys was still watching. Rhys felt a mildly-excited chill go up his spine, followed by an aroused sense of shame as he realized that Tim _must _be just as good with his hands as Jack was knowing the CEO’s standards, and while they might be identical _physically_ as far as Rhys knew, he’d never considered their less-showy_ skills_ might align as well. 

Rhys was already scheming as thoughts of big hands on him invaded his mind, and he knew he wasn’t going to forgive himself-- _nor _stop himself- from taking advantage of a perfect opportunity to have those identical hands on him again.

Rhys put down his fork and looked at Tim as innocently as he could otherwise pretend. “Can you show me how?”

Tim’s brows raised, and the curious expression there looked so amusingly out of place on ‘Jack’s’ face that Rhys almost wanted to laugh. 

Tim sat up and dug out the other pair of chopsticks from the takeaway bag, and he moved Jack’s huge yellow chair to sit closer to Rhys to demonstrate. 

“Okay, so eventually, you want to hold them like this,” Tim presented his own chopsticks in repose between his fingers. “If you do this-” Tim moved the position of the utensils, “you lose the strength at the bottom to hold anything with. If you do _this_-” Tim moved them again, far lower, “your hand is going to get tired and sore before you’ve even started.”

“Tell me about it…” Rhys muttered, then blushed at Tim’s laughter. He quickly got back on topic, doubling down and pursuing what he expected to be a hands-on lesson. “Okay, okay. So down the middle or whatever. Am I holding them right?” He hoped he wasn’t. He was counting on it. He ignored the thing inside him that told him he was dirty, and _greatly_ enjoyed Tim’s hands on his own correcting the hold. Inwardly he complained when Tim fixed it and removed himself, and asked Rhys to try to pick up a piece of chicken. 

While momentarily distracted by his dastardly plans to have Tim put his hands back on him, Rhys _did_ want to actually look good, but he didn’t manage much. Tim insisted he try again, and Rhys deflected by opening his palm and asking where the chopsticks should be making contact with his skin, or if he was using the right finger muscles (did fingers even have muscles?) Rhys sure didn’t care as he made his own excuses. 

“Like, let me show you what I mean, I don’t know what it’s called,” Rhys said as confidently as he could and willing away his telling blush as he took Tim’s hand and opened the palm. He shamelessly traced the inside of Tim’s hand with his thumb, asking if the ‘muscle-thing’ was supposed to touch _here_, or _here_, and should he feel the pressure of doing it right from _this _side of his palm or_ that_ as he traced along?

Rhys kept his eyes on Tim’s hand— not daring to meet his gaze in case Tim realized what Rhys was up to- and Tim patiently explained what parts of his hand he should be using to make the best hold, and he put them back in Rhys’ hand and had him try again.

Had Rhys _not_ been successful this time, he was pretty sure that Tim might’ve caught him out on his ulterior motives. But he managed to pick up a piece of chicken and get it to his mouth, and for that, Tim gripped his flesh arm in an excited touch of congratulations and praised that he was a fast learner.

Rhys used the excuse of ‘practicing’ to finish his lunch with chopsticks instead of a fork, even though Tim gently teased that it would take him twice as long to finish.

_That_, Tim didn’t know, _was the whole idea_. Rhys was half-stiff in his pants as he sat there. Unnoticeable, unless he got up, but he had to admit that maybe indulging in Tim’s hands on his own-- after sleepless nights dreaming of those same hands, only Jack’s, all over his body- maybe wasn’t the _best_ idea. The half-realized boner was his punishment for indulging himself.

By the time lunch was done, he was safely able to return to his own desk and continue boring secretarial work that could’ve been done at home while Tim did much the same. He didn’t think Tim caught the interested looks he gave him as they finished off the work day, but as far as his psyche was concerned, he wasn’t going to get any rest anytime soon.

\--

Jack had been in and out of the office all week, and Tim stood in more often than not for the random video call needing the CEO’s face. 

Between Jack’s sudden interest in cleaning his gun at his desk when he _was_ present, and take-out meals with Tim when Jack _wasn’t_, Rhys was in a hell of his own making.

The PA had been certain he was being punished by galactic karma for his dirty thoughts about Jack’s hands on him, and for the shameless touching of Tim’s own a week prior. Rhys didn’t know if he was just _conscious_ of taking notice now, or if his fantasies had gotten_ just_ that deep under his skin, but it was like he could focus on nothing but the strength and dexterity in Jack and Tim’s respective hands. 

And it only snowballed from there.

Jack became rather _insistent_— after Rhys’ denials of any ability- that his PA know proper gun maintenance, which then lead to an intensive lesson in structure as Jack expertly took the weapon apart, and put it into Rhys’ own hands to make him learn to _properly_ put it back together, he’d said. Jack was already a touchy-feely type of guy, and Rhys credited sheer force of will for not outwardly-blushing as Jack moved his hands freely about Rhys’ person in his teaching. The touches were peppered with all the usual familiarity and innuendo Jack normally used with the younger man, but whatever desensitization Rhys had developed in a year working for the older man was raw and easily-excited again.

Jack would probably never let Rhys live it down if he knew he was_ actually_ hitting the mark, and Rhys had been trying to fight a hard-on the entire ‘lesson’. While it gave him more wank-material to pull into his fantasies, it wasn’t exactly lending to his quality of sleep.

Tim had stood in for Jack a few days that same week, and it was like the PA couldn’t catch a break with him either. 

Tim and Rhys had gotten noodles for take-out again— _so Rhys could practice_, Tim pressed- and the gentle encouragement and demonstrations not only made Rhys’ chopstick skills _better,_ but they_ fully_ aggravated his rekindled obsession for his boss and his body double.

And after that trying week, that was how— after not being properly laid in _months_, and fueled with more than enough reality-based fantasies in his mind- Rhys had been absolutely going to town on himself in the shower, using both hands, and toys, as he fucked and jerked himself off. 

And right as he’d been enthusiastically working the _Master Handsome 5000 _into himself, flesh hand drifting down to tug at his cock in earnest, the worst damn thing had happened.

“_The whole arm’s _dead, _Jack_,” Rhys hissed agitatedly into his comm. He was pulling on clothes as he spoke, a long week of sleepless nights and ruined sheets making his mood go from bad to worse. 

He hadn’t even gotten to come when his arm had suddenly gone dead, and the panic had been real enough to kill his hard-on. 

And now all that pent-up frustration and arousal was being used to fuel his anger.

“Your arm’s dead?” Jack repeated nonchalantly. “Like, you can’t move it, or—”

“As in _no movement at all,_” Rhys snapped, then cleared his throat a little. He took a breath as he realized that Jack was still his _boss_, and he was asking him for _help _and probably shouldn’t be snapping at him… even_ if _it was probably Jack’s own tinkering that had caused it, and thus in relation, was to be blamed for his current lack of orgasms. “It was fine, but then—”

“Don’t get your panties in a wad, babe,” Jack spoke into the comm like it was nothing. “Come on over and I’ll fix it for you.”

Rhys opened his mouth to say something back to that blasé tone, and then thought better of it as his exhausted mind quickly whiplashed him from thoughts of anger and resentment back into the morally-ambiguous territory of recent arousal. “...at the office?” he asked far more calmly than he felt.

“Nah, I’m already home. Got everything to make-do here.”

The anger came right back. “_Jack_…” 

Rhys bristled at the thought of ‘making-do’, and things getting further screwed up inside his cybernetics. He was already frustrated that he’d gotten no rest all week due to filthy dreams about large, warm hands all over his body, and to top it all off, now he couldn’t even _get_ off. Not in the way he really needed, anyways.

Jack’s own tone shifted, and something in it made Rhys’ mood shift as well.

“I can fix it, okay?” The exasperation in the older man’s voice was only shadowed by the confidence there; the promise to make it better under the tone asking for his trust. 

Rhys sighed. “...Really?”

“You betcha,” Jack promised, the smirk evident over the comm. “Come on up, cupcake. I’ll leave the door unlocked for ya.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve actually been dying to use this as a concept somewhere: Rhys is experiencing Baader-Meinhof phenomenon, otherwise known as frequency illusion or recency illusion. This phenomenon occurs when the thing you've just noticed, experienced or been told about suddenly crops up constantly. 
> 
> **TL;DR:** Rhys is so goddamn thirsty that he can't stop seeing 'normal' gun-cleaning and eating lunch as the hand-porn of his boss and boss's double (as it rightly is rhys!!! There's no such thing as coincidence!!) bahahha xD
> 
> [my tumblr](http://purge-that-urge-rhackathon.tumblr.com/) | [my fic masterlist archive](http://purge-that-urge-rhackathon.tumblr.com/post/134979026515/a-ao3-fic-archive) | [my twitter](https://twitter.com/PurgeThatUrge) | [my pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.io/PoisonJack)
> 
> Please leave kudos and a comment if you enjoyed! ao3 FAQ: [Can I post comments anonymously, or if I don't have an Archive account? ](https://archiveofourown.org/faq/comments-and-kudos?language_id=en#anoncomment)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy goddamn I haven't written smut in a while but I tapped out on this one xD We got dirty enough tho i think right? :D hehe Again THANK YOU for supporting me! I love and appreciate you <3

Rhys had been to Jack’s penthouse multiple times before. Sometimes to deliver things, or sometimes to work overtime with the older man on some issue or other. It was far more casual than anyone in Hyperion would ever _hope _to be with the CEO, and Rhys was determined not to ever oust himself from such privilege, even in the face of annoyance and exhaustion. 

It was with that in mind that he reminded himself to remain calm— that Jack could _fix_ this- and he could hopefully jerk himself into a coma tonight and catch up on all that missed sleep this weekend.

Rhys had not expected Tim to be present when he let himself in, and he suddenly worried about his own restraint and ability to act disinterested as Jack welcomed him with a grin and moved back towards the kitchen bartop where familiar tools were laid out in the light. Jack was wearing some kind of sweatpants or pajama pants-- clearly more relaxed and casual at home- and Rhys was thankful for small mercies in that he wouldn’t really be able to ogle his boss’s ass like this.

Tim, as karma would have it, happened to still be wearing his ‘work’ clothes for the day as he sat at the bar, hand up in greeting as he smiled over his shoulder. 

It was an odd thing to be both disappointed _and _grateful at the same time, but Rhys kept his eyes up as he returned the greeting, movement stuttered a bit as he looked at the other man. It took him a moment to realize that Tim wasn’t wearing the mask he usually had on in public, and the somewhat-bashful grin Tim gave him seemed to acknowledge that. 

This was maybe the second time Rhys had seen Tim’s face without it, and he did_ not _have time to indulge in acknowledging all the things running through his mind at that discovery. That the double didn’t wear the mask in Jack’s home spoke to something Rhys wasn’t a party to, and couldn’t allow himself to start to wonder at if he wanted to keep control of his dick and not embarrass himself.

“I was_ trying _to get laid before you called,” Jack complained as he walked past Tim to the other side of the counter. Tim snorted, and Rhys went red and wondered if mind-reading technology _had_ been invented. Jack didn’t seem to notice any particular distress, and motioned for Rhys to sit near Tim; probably going to use the man as an assistant while he fixed Rhys’ arm.

“He wasn’t making great progress on that front,” Tim shot back playfully at Jack, getting a snort of genuine amusement from the CEO. Rhys looked between them with a sort of manic desperation, then reminded himself of the _not _sex-fantasy reason he was here: his arm. 

Which they’d fix with their _hands_. Nice big hands they’d maybe both put on him if the repair was worse than the upgrade. Hands that plagued him at night, and both were present_ right now._

“I was still_ trying_,” Jack affirmed as if the attempt should count, turning a sort of knowing-smirk on Rhys before winking. “The night is young, right?”

Rhys’ inner mantra of_ hands hands hands _was thankfully broken-through by Jack’s cocky tone, and the PA summoned a deep frown, as if he could somehow banish the blush from his face if only he scowled hard enough. He should’ve just slept off his angry arousal and panic with his dead-arm and had Jack look at things tomorrow. That he was already blushing so quickly was only a testament to how tired and frustrated he was. “I can’t move my_ arm_, Jack.”

“Hm, yeah, I can see how that would put a damper on the festivities,” the CEO teased, giving his body-double a look as Tim rolled his eyes at Jack. 

Rhys watched the casual interaction with less-than-innocent interest. He didn’t know if they’d ever actually slept together, but he knew that Jack was vain enough to happily take ‘go fuck yourself’ literally, and that the man flirted with everyone and anyone. Whether or not he or Tim were involved or _did _do anything, just the idea of it was going to drive Rhys even further mad with unbearable fantasy. His brain didn’t need to be encouraged, let alone_ while _both men were present.

“He’s suffered enough, Jack. Just fix it already,” Tim prompted with a sort of grouchy tone.

That seemed a little extra, but Rhys wasn’t going to complain over Tim being dramatic on his behalf. He just wanted his damn arm to work, and to maybe crawl under the covers in his own bed and either pass out-- or jerk off_ until_ he passed out- and hopefully get some decent sleep. 

Rhys splayed his cybernetic arm on Jack’s counter as the older man retrieved his glasses and set to work. 

“It should be a real easy fix if it is what I think it is,” Jack informed without teasing him for once, being careful as he removed the outer paneling to the more delicate inner-workings of Rhys’ arm. “Shine that light over here, gorgeous,” Jack told Tim as he had to remove another, more-delicate panel from within the other. 

Jack was quicker than last time-- if not just as careful- while Rhys faced the work being done on his arm, but the PA was far from paying attention. 

Jack had _big _hands, but that idea was really, _really _being sent home right now as Rhys was presented with four options to look at: Tim’s forearm was on the counter resting near Rhys’ own, the other holding a small but powerful light to better help Jack work. Jack’s own hands were illuminated rather well as he expertly handled the tiny screwdriver and tweezers. 

The way they both handled their respective tools sent a vindictive heat through Rhys’ middle to settle further south.

“_Damn! _Timmy, baby, switch places with me real fast and hold this--”

“What’s wrong?” Rhys asked with concern as he tried to see for himself, heart-rate quickening. His arm was already dead, what else could be worse?

“Nothin’ to worry about,” Jack said easily as Tim held part of the partition Jack was trying to get into open. “Let me just-- There we go-” 

“Should I move or—?”

“Nah Timtam, stay like that a minute,” Jack said as he saw exactly what he was looking for. He indicated it with his tweezers. “That little wire probably wiggled loose and shorted everything. I just gotta mess with it.”

“Am I going to be electrocuted?” Rhys asked bluntly, convinced he wasn’t just making an ironic joke. “If I’m going to be electrocuted, I wanna know about it, Jack.”

“Stop saying ‘electrocuted’,” Jack muttered. “Nothin’ to worry about—”

“Considered you turned my hand into a _shock-baton_— which made my arm _stop working_\- I think I have_ plenty_ to worry about,” Rhys snarked back a bit hysterically. 

“He _won’t_ get electrocuted, right?” Tim parroted, and Jack rolled his eyes at the both of them.

“It’s an _easy_ fix, kitten. I promise,” Jack said as earnestly as possible, ignoring his previous urgency. “What were you doing when things went dark, anyways? Jerking off I bet,” Jack teased with a grin. At Rhys’ silence, he looked up and saw the younger man’s face was red. This was accompanied with a pout, and Rhys wished he could’ve crossed his arms in frustration. 

“Holy crap, _were_ you really jerking off when it happened?” Jack’s voice was far more pleased than it had any right being, and he looked excitedly between Rhys and Tim while the double told him to ignore Jack. “Hey now, I’m not being mean or nothin’!” Jack promised with a look at Tim. “I mean, it’s _funny _as _hell_, but that’s _tragic_, cupcake. A man can’t live that way,” Jack stated, switching his tone to something more suited to the bedroom than a kitchen-counter repair job, “_Let me make it better_.”

Rhys almost gave into the thinly-veiled innuendo. If anything, it would be worth it just to see what Jack would do or say. His expression alone would be priceless, Rhys was sure. _Okay, _he wanted to say. _Prove all the stuff you say and make me come apart. _

“Your priorities are _really_ skewed, Jack,” Rhys muttered instead, refusing to meet his eyes and stubbornly watching his hands instead.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Jack’s braying grin turned to give Tim a wicked look before pointedly turning his attention back to Rhys. “What_ were_ you jerking off to, anyways? Must’ve been something _good _to put your arm out of commission—”

“Are you almost _done?_” Tim interrupted with annoyance that bordered on grievance, and Jack gave him a frown as something unspoken passed between them. 

“Yeah, yeah. I’m almost done,” Jack muttered as the wind was taken from his sails. “You were right, I was wrong, blah blah….” he added with far less bluster. “Hope _you’re _happy, ‘cuz I’m not.” 

Rhys didn’t have a moment to consider what that might mean when a jolt of pain went through him that made him jump and shriek. Jack cursed and Tim caught Rhys from falling off the barstool he was sat on as the PA sat there catching his breath for a moment at the literal shock.

“_Fuck, _Rhysie, I’m sorry,” Jack said quickly, one of his hands rubbing at the younger man’s shoulder while his other hand kept Rhys’ opened-arm on the counter. “The covering on one of the wires wore through. I have something to solder it with, but it won’t do that again.” He studied the younger man’s face for a moment. “The, uh, the shock-thing I mean. Not enough juice to go again,” Jack weakly joked as his thumb rubbed across Rhys’ shoulder.

Rhys just nodded a bit mutely, abjectly afraid of moving his opened-arm as Jack got up to quickly grab the tool he needed. Tim kept the hold he had on the other man, and Rhys stayed right where he was, not exactly pleased with the situation, but enjoying the feel of Tim’s chest against his back greatly. 

“You feel alright? Uh, I mean, I know you were just shocked, but... you know what I mean…” Tim trailed off awkwardly, giving him a squeeze where his hand held Rhys’ flesh forearm.

Rhys didn’t trust his voice _or_ his face at that moment, and instead just nodded again as he told himself he needed to seriously evaluate his own priorities if he was getting this excited after an electric-shock. Yes, he still felt tingly and it had _hurt_, but the fact that Tim was holding him close enough to feel the double’s chest against his back as he breathed, and Rhys knew he had a serious problem.

Jack came back with something of a truly-regretful look-- an expression that Rhys idly thought looked out of place on the CEO- but he didn’t doubt that Jack _actually_ felt bad. The upgrade had been his idea from the start. It didn’t exactly make him look good.

“I’ll fix it proper after this,” Jack said resolutely, giving his PA slightly-wary looks like Rhys might not want him to touch him again after that. “Less than five minutes and you’ll be better than new again. You good, kitten?”

Rhys nodded, and then muttered to “Yes, please, go ahead,” as he took a deep breath and reprimanded himself for getting_ excited. _

Tim chose that moment to move his hold so he could grasp Rhys’ flesh-hand in support while also literally supporting him from behind. Jack’s movements were carefully controlled, speaking kind of apologetically as he fixed the problem he knew had resulted from his own distraction.

“I know it’ll make you laugh-- _which is why I’m telling you-_” Jack said in a sort of tone which said that much was obvious, “but I was _convinced _you had a thing for me,” Jack began. “Like a real thing.”

Rhys could feel his heart-rate picking up, his pulse pounding in the side of his neck and a whole lot of blood beginning to relocate itself as the CEO spoke.

“Or for_ him,_ I mean,” Jack motioned upwards with his head to behind Rhys, not taking his attention from the younger man’s arm as he worked, “Or both of us. _Whatever_. Like, not in the way that’s _pretty much _company-policy by now,” Jack snorted with a grin, making light of the anecdote to cover for any mishaps or embarrassment with present company. “But like a good old-fashioned crush. Heh, _nah_, that makes it sound too sweet.”

Tim’s hand twitched in Rhys’ own where the PA held it, and he swore that he could feel Tim holding his breath behind him over the topic. It made everything suddenly real, seeing things from a new perspective and realizing all the gun-maintenance, and chopsticks, and boredom-puzzles with Tim, and the gloves Jack had wanted his opinion on when he’d never actually _seen_ the CEO wear gloves before, suddenly took on meaning.

It was a hard pill to swallow, but as Jack continued speaking in subdued tones while he diligently worked on the repair, Rhys found the rush of blood south to be both dizzying and satisfying in ways he hadn’t expected.

For one thing, he_ wasn’t_ entirely at-fault for running so hot lately as it was_ clear_ they’d known what was going on-- or _Jack _did at the very least, as Tim was still silent behind him. It hadn’t been Rhys’ overactive imagination; they_ had _been using their hands more often to taunt him. And two, unless he was reading things entirely wrong,_ both _men had been interested enough to attempt to incite him to something more. There was _personal_ interest there, is what Rhys took from Jack’s words. 

And from what he was thus striving to comprehend, Jack was relating_ disappointment _that Rhys wasn’t actually interested in him, or them, or_ whatever._ It made Rhys want to laugh _and _cry_ and _maybe strangle Jack for all the lost sleep due to his filthy, creative mind.

“But yeah, I_ might’ve _gotten a little carried away when I first installed this baby, and that’s why your arm went dead,” Jack confessed with a tone less guilty-sounding than he should have otherwise been. “You’re pretty distracting, pumpkin. Make anyone cross a few wires,” Jack quipped. “But uh, you’re also a damn good personal assistant-- I mean that. I’ll make sure this shit doesn’t happen again, okay? So don’t be mad, princess. I’ll make it up to ya.”

Jack had closed up the paneling, everything in proper working order, and chose that moment to look up at Rhys from behind his glasses. There was some look of expectation there, he realized, and equally realized he wasn’t sure what the hell Jack _expected_ him to say to all_ that._

Rhys wasn’t sure if that was supposed to be an apology, a love-confession, a promise, or _what_, but it _had _to be self-serving somehow. Did any of that even make sense? What did Tim have to say about his part in all this? His hand was sweaty in Rhys’ own, and his breaths had started up again quite a bit faster. He didn’t know how the hell to feel about all _that,_ and he was pretty sure he’d have some words to exchange after some decent rest and sleep.

What he_ did_ know was that he had a serious hard-on in his pants, he was mad as hell about it, and the solid heat of Tim behind him-- holding him- and Jack in front of him with a palm on his forearm, watching him in an almost calculating way, Rhys let the week’s frustration out.

“Are you freaking _kidding_ me?!” Rhys said as Jack looked at him quizzically, clearly confused as to why Rhys was suddenly angry instead of singing his praises over his now-functional arm. Rhys turned his frowning face to look behind himself at Tim, finding a hot blush on the other man’s face as they looked at one another. Rhys gave his hand a squeeze where Tim still held his, frown still on his face as the sound of blood rushing in his ears nearly drowned out his own voice. Clearly they’d both been working together on driving him insane with sexual frustration. “_You _knew, too?”

The guilt there was obvious as Tim didn’t want to meet Rhys’ eyes. “Um… ah..._ geez_…”

Jack, however, seemed suddenly _gleeful._ As if he could feel the charge in the air before a thunderstorm, he knew something was coming (or _would,_ if he had anything to say about it) and he was all about facilitating the course of nature. 

He smiled toothily, leaning forward over the counter more to test, pushing his palm further up Rhys’ cybernetic arm to see what the PA would let him get away with, and how mad he _truly_ was. He wasn’t shunted off. It made him smirk as he glanced at his double. “Who do you think told me about the hand-job you gave his fingers, Rhysie?” Jack waggled his brows.

Tim’s arm contracted a bit where he still held Rhys, squeezing about the other man’s waist as he made a noise of shock that Jack would sell him out. “Oh come_ on…_”

“You were _seriously _doing it on _purpose_, Jack?” Rhys accused, still leaning pleasantly back into Tim’s nervous hold, but not rejecting any advances for his anger. The double was immune to his ire at the moment; spared by the throbbing in his pants that enjoyed Tim’s closeness, and the anger that was focused on the CEO himself instead. Jack was a mastermind sometimes, that much was true, but this had been_ truly_ devious. “Do you have_ any _idea how much sleep I’ve lost?! How tired I am?” Rhys spat angrily, though he pressed himself backwards further into Tim’s hold. He allowed Jack to more firmly grab him.

Jack’s grin only widened. Tim sputtered behind him. 

It was a very simple thing for Rhys to move forward just a few inches, the superior-strength and power of his cybernetic arm overriding Jack’s own palm on him to pull the CEO into a hard kiss. The noise Jack made in surprise was pleased-shock, and he was instantly leaning closer to the younger man to try to take control of the kiss.

Rhys pulled back, denying the older man but meeting his eyes with some frustrated need that only made Jack grin. “Oh, we’re so doing this. _Right _now.” His voice had the angry-edge of arousal to it. Jack lightly ran his hand up and down Rhys’ cybernetic arm. Tim held his breath. Rhys sighed. “_You_ started this._ Both_ of you,” Rhys affirmed with a slight look back, certain Tim wouldn’t even be holding him if he wasn’t equally as interested. 

Tim’s arms twitched about him, but didn’t move away. His breath came again, quickly. Rhys rewarded his stolidness by giving their entwined fingers another squeeze. He smirked. “I can’t _believe_ the shit you’ve been putting me through.” Rhys kissed Jack again before he could make some snarky comment, and he gave Tim’s hand a sort of assessing pull in wanting him closer as well-- signaling he wanted them _both_, and at the same time. Tim pressed himself flush to Rhys’ back with a heavy sigh and nosed about Rhys’ hair in an almost-apologetic way, splaying his fingers on the PA’s belly. 

It made Rhys moan into Jack’s mouth, and his cock jump inside the pajama pants he’d thrown on.

“Okay, that was- Fuck, _shit_,” Jack began with a smile, muttering in sudden excitement as he broke from Rhys’ lips, “_That?_ was hot. What are we talkin’ here, Rhysie? What’re we three gorgeous-guys doin’?” Jack asked excitedly, gaze darting up to Tim behind him several times, a sparkle in the older man’s eyes. 

Rhys was breathing heavily from Tim’s hand which was politely-skirting his waistline, though the double _was_ feeling plenty as far as Rhys was concerned. The PA had to bite his lip as Tim nosed at the back of his neck. Jack watched with a mischievous grin. He knew how to wind Rhys up.

“You know the glove-shopping was Tim’s idea, right?” Jack informed, practically purring at the sight before him. “He said the way you touched hands had to be the same way you’d touch--”

“_I did not!_” Tim quickly denied before Jack could even finish, popping his head up from appreciating Rhys’ neck to glare at the CEO. 

“He called it a _hand_ job. Like, a_ literal_ ‘hand’ task, cupcake. You massaged his hand.” 

“Now that I believe,” Rhys muttered as he still frowned, angling his head back to meet Tim’s eyes with his own. There was a sort of bashfulness at being caught-out, but the desire smoldering there was certainly real. Rhys tipped his chin back just slightly, squeezing Tim’s hand in some indication of what he wanted, and the double was quickly crushing his mouth to Rhys’ own, as if _he’d_ been the one losing sleep from frustration all this time.

“Damn that_ is_ pretty,” Jack said with appreciation as he watched Tim kiss Rhys tentatively. It was hot, too. He wondered if it got Tim stiff in his pants from watching Jack do the same. And if everything was headed where Jack thought it was, then it probably _did_. “We look _good_, y’know? Like I’m talkin’ magazine-cover good. And not just the dirty porno mags,” Jack praised. Rhys shot him a glare, but Jack just gave him an earnest smile this time, putting the ball back in Rhys’ court. “What’s our punishment, kitten? Handjobs?” 

“How exactly are_ handjobs_ a _punishment_, Jack?” Tim spoke up with a tension-breaking laugh. Jack was only too-happy to give his answer directly to Rhys.

“_We _have to give_ you_ handjobs. That’s, like, a_ job_,” Jack teased. “Lay back there and relax?” He waggled his eyebrows.

Rhys wanted to snark at him, or maybe even tell him off, but the idea of both men’s hands around his cock and on his body was directly from one of his dreams. There was no way in_ hell_ Rhys would turn this down. He’d been entertaining the idea (and logistics) of letting them fuck him, but presented with his infatuation with their hands, it was like a livewire down his spine.

Rhys moaned at the idea, and Jack was quick around the counter to press against his PA, smirking up at Tim as they sandwiched Rhys between them from behind and front. Rhys grasped Jack firmly with his cybernetic hand, and re-situated the hold Tim had on him so he could grab the body-double as well. With hard muscles at his back, and Jack’s busy-hands at his front touching shoulders, neck, chin, and thighs, and Rhys wasn’t entirely sure he hadn’t slipped in the shower and was in some coma-fantasy right now.

“Is it okay?” Tim asked behind him, warm voice against his ear as the tip of his nose traced the shell. His voice took on a sort of amused quality. “Handjobs to say we’re sorry?” Tim proposed with a smiling press of his lips that wrenched a wanting-sound from Rhys. Everyone wanted the same thing, apparently, and Rhys was entirely on-board with the idea.

“Whaddya say, kitten? Move this to the bedroom or what?”

“_Yes_,” Rhys gasped out, feeling overly-sensitive everywhere and something like relief running through him at the thought he’d finally get what had been driving him nuts. 

While Rhys’ mind quickly flipped through every single idea and fantasy he’d had about Handsome Jack since before _entering_ Hyperion’s workforce, the reality of being invited into his boss’s bedroom _with_ his body-double was kind of short-circuiting him. Being _kissed_ by both men too? Frankly it suddenly made all the restless nights and ruined sheets entirely worth it. 

Jack kissed exactly like Rhys thought he might, meeting Rhys’ lips and taking charge as he teased and nipped with a lot of tongue that made the younger man groan. Those big hands undressing him, slipping under fabric to feel his fill, was making Rhys dizzy. When Jack chuckled and made some smartass comment, Rhys nipped at him a bit harder. Jack just grinned wickedly and directed his face to his double.

Tim might’ve been less take-charge than Jack, but he was still an aggressive kisser, and Rhys _loved_ it. He licked his tongue past Rhys’ lips, gentler and definitely_ different_, but no less erotic for it. Tim had one of those lovely big hands splayed on his belly, moving north up his chest-- over his inked pec to tweak a nipple- before splaying over Rhys’ throat to eventually get a better hold on his face to kiss him with. Tim’s little moans and gasps of his own as Rhys kissed right back only intensified the pleasure of the whole experience.

Tim was sweet to Jack’s spicy, and while Rhys had numerous ideas about what he just might be in for, he didn’t really expect either man to stick with the handjob plan. His more-ambitious fantasies aside, he was truly grateful for quickly-satisfied mercies. Handjobs were a great place to start, and he was truly far too tired to _really_ take a proper pounding. And with the way both men looked at him and touched him, tonight was _not _going to be the first or last time.

He wondered how frequently Tim and Jack talked, and if Jack had the same familiar-relationship with his double that he seemed to have with his PA. Such pondering could wait for later though. Rhys was currently naked between Tim’s legs-- reclining back-to-chest with Jack kneeling over his thighs- and their_ hands…_ So many hands on his chest and between his legs and gently cupping his throat and tweaking his nipples and sliding up his cock.

Rhys whimpered into Jack’s mouth as the CEO’s thumb passed through the precome leaking from his cockhead. He was close, _so damn close_, and the sucking kisses Tim was pressing to his neck wasn’t helping matters. 

Rhys could reach Jack’s cock in this position-- though after the first two attempts and Jack’s pleased moans, Tim had batted him off and reminded Jack that this was a_ punishment_\- and sometimes Rhys could feel Tim’s own cock twitch behind him, but the fact that the focus was on _him _was what was _really_ doing it for Rhys. 

It was sweet, it was heady, and even though he did not much else but writhe between them as they took turns dragging large, warm hands up his cock and inner thighs, the growled words of praise and husky quality of voice told Rhys that Jack and Tim were just as turned on from his pleasure as they were giving it to him.

Tim was flicking his tongue over Rhys’ ear as he twisted his palm around the PA’s slippery cock, and Jack was in turn fondling his balls as he whispered filthy things between kissing Rhys’ mouth. Rhys was breathing hard, overcome with sensation and the sheer pleasure of it all. He was barely able to make some sort of warning noise which quickly became a cry as he came, cock spurting over both men’s hands as Jack pulled his balls back to draw out his pleasure.

Tim worked him through the orgasm while Jack praised him with filthy words, pressing kisses to his face as Rhys lay slack in Tim’s embrace. The PA chuckled in happy satisfaction, _finally _getting off in a way that he _knew _would bring good sleep with it. 

Jack wiped his hand on a sheet before passing a generally-clean edge to Tim, the double cleaning his own hand as well as Rhys while he caught his breath. Rhys could feel Tim behind him, still hard and throbbing, and leaking in arousal against his back. He had the visual of Jack before him, long and hard and red with want. As far as post-orgasm images went, it was a good one.

“So, I don’t know about _you_, kitten, but I’m feeling sufficiently punished,” Jack said with a wicked grin, voice deep with unspent want as his warm palm pet up and down Rhys’ thigh beseechingly. “_Totally _penitent. Put right in my place, right Timmy?”

“_Super _punished,” the double agreed with a barely-contained whine. “Never more apologetic.” Jack probably couldn’t see the way Tim flexed his cock against Rhys’ back in want, or know that the double was pressing himself against the PA in his lap in search of friction, but no one was buying Tim’s contrition, let alone Jack’s. They’d _loved _jerking him off. He absolutely didn’t need to return the favor, but they were both angling for his attention. It didn’t take the happy smile from Rhys’ face, regardless.

“Rhysie, baby, buttercup, are we forgiven?” 

Jack’s big hands came to rest on either side of Rhys’ hips, cock flexing in his lap and drawing Rhys’ eyes. The younger man could feel Tim grinding lazily behind him. It was clear what they both wanted. But then, this really hadn’t been a punishment at all, had it?

“Almost,” Rhys answered leisurely, leaning his head to one side to allow Tim’s kisses he’d been pressing to Rhys’ shoulders. He shivered with a little pleased hum. The PA sat up in his lap, and received a whine behind him as Tim moved to follow. 

“_Almost?_” Jack repeated, a quizzical-yet-game brow raised. 

“_What do we have to do?_” Tim whined behind him, forehead against Rhys’ back as he circled arms around the other man’s middle. A kiss at the base of his neck followed, and Rhys turned to look at the body-double directly.

“I want to_ watch_,” Rhys said with a wicked, satisfied smirk, pressing a kiss to Tim’s cheek. Jack raised an interested brow at that, and the low-simmering look Tim was giving him before looking at Jack and raising his own brow almost made him laugh. “It’s your punishment for all the sleep I’ve lost this week. Handjobs only.”

“You both need lessons on what a punishment actually _is_,” Tim said with a lust-heavy chuckle as he extricated himself from behind Rhys only to be bowled over into the blankets by Jack.

Rhys wished he wasn’t actually so exhausted. While it was_ really _a treat to watch Jack jerk himself_ and _Tim off in one big hand-- an image which Rhys would file away for later use- he was so damn tired that the half-chub from watching that show quickly went away by the time Jack and Tim had caught their breath and cleaned their release from where it had mostly landed on Tim’s chest.

They reclined among the pillows where Rhys had lazily watched them like some hedonistic king, and with the CEO himself to his left, and the man’s body-double to his right, Rhys certainly felt like one.

Jack kicked the soiled top-sheet from the bed, his voice easy with satisfaction while he lazily touched the other two. “That was the_ best_ idea,” he said with an easy grin. “Just lemme rest a minute, and we can go again.”

Tim snorted and cuddled himself next to Rhys on Jack’s giant bed. It _had_ been a particularly-good handjob, he had to admit. And the sleepy, indulgent smile Rhys aimed his way as he wormed his way under Tim’s arm only cemented that fact in his brain. “Maybe after a nap…” Tim said with a look at Jack. The CEO gave him a hopeful raise of his brows while Rhys only snorted and closed his eyes, smiling tiredly as he let himself drift, half-listening to their words.

“_Damn_,” Jack said excitedly, “so how’s the progress lookin’ on getting laid tonight _now, _Timmy?”

Tim snorted and shook his head with a laugh. “You know I’m not exactly mad about being wrong, right?”

Jack’s grin was so wide it could be heard in his voice. “_Soooo _that’s the opinion on still letting me fuck you some time?”

Rhys stirred a bit wearily at their voices. It took a few moments for the topic to make sense in his head, but when it did, he smirked and settled back down between them to try for proper sleep. It was oddly restful, hearing their voices playfully bicker.

“Maybe,” Tim’s voice was full of tease, playful and relaxed, “if _he’s_ there.”

“Damn, _that’s_ the requirement? You tryin’ to make me fall in love with ya, here?”

Rhys smirked into the covers as he felt movement over him, and heard a soft-sound like lips against skin. There was a warm hand on his thigh, and Jack’s cocky-chuckles shook him slightly. Soft pressure against his shoulder, followed by moist heat. Tim was smiling while kissing his skin.

“You _wish_.”

“Everyone’s got a breaking point, Timtams. We can try yours later.”

There was snickering, followed by more soft murmurs and soothing touches. A hand in his hair, stroking firmly, but gentle enough not to disturb his rest. Blankets were tucked about him and there was a little shifting as someone was getting more comfortable.

Rhys felt himself drift right back off between them into restful sleep. The contents of his dreams were unnoteworthy that night, but the reality was so much better anyways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm actual super proud of this i feel like i haven't gotten my fics to 'work' for a while but im satisfied and thats awesome! :D
> 
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> 
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